CHAPTER 64-PART 1

I do not know who I am.

But I know there is something I must do.

Although the memories of my existence have long faded, the duty to uphold remained deeply engraved in my soul.

I exist solely for that purpose.

※※※※

The first encounter was a confrontation, but from the second onward, it turned into rage, and then...

[Do you think you've achieved anything with such mediocre skill?]

It was nothing but violence.

Amidst the pinnacle of relentless violence, the headless man could only stagger back in great confusion.

It seemed he had momentarily forgotten.

The headless man, who had survived by taking the lives of others, realized the possibility that he too might become someone's prey.

Crash! Roar! Crash!

As he witnessed the sharp flashes thrusting through the unadorned sword, the headless man finally grasped an emotion long forgotten.

"······Who are you?"

Fear.

He feared that the current moment, with the priest's robes bursting and the distant presence of a ghost horse, would soon become his own fate.

[I have no words for trash who revels in the blood of children.]

A raging storm surge from the left eye of the voice.

It was a merciless tempest.

[So just die.]

For a moment, the world went white.

At least, that's what the headless knight felt.

There it comes.

The white monster.

Baring its ferocious teeth.

Coming to devour me.

A fierce beast made of white lightning charged straight towards the headless knight.

Even the raindrops falling seemed unable to catch up with him, moving at an incredible speed.

'Left? Or maybe...'

Even in the fleeting moment, the headless knight hesitated dozens of times, twitching his body.

Each step of the voice contained countless possibilities.

The problem was that within each of those possibilities, his own demise was engraved.

It was like an approaching fate, relentless and violent.

'Right!'

Despite reacting as best as he could to the uncertain movement of the voice, all that returned was a chilling sensation from behind.

[Was this all you could muster with such sluggishness?]

"······!"

Suddenly, the ferocious beast approached and breathed down the neck of the headless knight.

Daring to mock the potential I cherish, are you?

Roar!

"Aaah!"

The voice, filled with rage, mercilessly struck down the headless knight with the force of a raging storm.

Thrown to the ground by the overwhelming impact, the headless knight couldn't help but scream, and it wasn't over yet.

Crash! Crash!

The headless knight, who had been cut dozens of times while floating in the air, was struggling in fear worse than death.

"Cough!"

The headless knight, who was free from death and refused even pain, was now unable to come to his senses due to the attack of the voice that seemed to be tearing at his soul, not his body.

How could such a being exist in this world?

The headless knight could only wring his hands as he saw the voice that could not be compared to any enemy he had ever faced.

[Hand it over!]

A white beast lunged towards the headless knight lying in the rain-filled mud.

[Give it to me now!]

"Aaargh!"

The voice, echoing the boy's words from a moment ago, mercilessly struck the headless knight.

With each swing of the sword and fist, dry fragments fell weakly away from the headless knight.

Thunk!

"Aaargh!"

The voice twisted with the sword and pounded with fists, searching for the children's breath within the embrace of the headless knight.

A fragile world was bound to be devoured.

But the children were innocent.

They should not be driven into the harsh rules just yet.

[Here it is.]

Thus, the voice managed to catch the breath of the children being sucked into the darkness.

With a small sigh, the voice carefully held onto the shimmering breath of the children, still twinkling.

Though small, the presence of the children felt heavy.

Two worlds must shed blood and tears to grow the little sparkle they are holding on to now.

Feeling the weight ingrained by father and mother, the voice struck the chest of the headless knight once again.

"Grrk!"

On a rainy night, the knight who didn't know his own name plucked a single star from the darkness within the headless knight.

[Now, let's finish this.]

The voice carefully tucked the star into the boy's embrace and once again gripped the unadorned sword.

There was still work to be done.

[I used to remember how to kill scum like you, but it seems I've forgotten.]

"······."

The headless man looked at the voice slowly approaching him and reprimanded his mistake.

He thought they were peers, but they were not.

He was clearly someone who had escaped from death like himself, but his energy was extremely pure.

[I may not remember, but that doesn't mean there isn't a way.]

From the tip of the voice's fingers, white lightning began to illuminate the unadorned sword brightly.

[If I tear your limbs apart and shred you to pieces, you'll be no different than dead.]

The victor stands above, the loser below.

The winner determines everything.

And today, you will be torn apart here.

As the headless knight listened to the merciless fate determined by the voice, he stumbled backward, reaching out his hand.

It was as if he was shouting.

"Ramashtu... Sir Ramashtu!"

Unable to call upon a god, the headless knight could only call out the name of his master, desperately pleading as he staggered.

[······!]

Though the voice may not remember, it could feel it.

That the wretched figure before it was pleading for someone's help.

Thud!

[······this.]

But the boy's body began to scream, unable to endure any longer.

Though Vlad's body and the world had clearly grown, it was now too much.

Rather, it should be grateful for everything it had borne until now.

"I'm here!"

While the voice hesitated for a moment, the headless knight reached out his hands towards the sky, as if seeking salvation.

Yet the salvation he sought was not from the heavens, but from the earth.

As if a hole had opened, a dark shadow slowly opened its mouth, pulling the headless knight and the ghost horse towards it.

"Sir Ramashtu? Sir Ramashtu!"

Looking down at his hands, which were gradually withering away, the headless knight uttered a pitiful cry, but his master was already reclaiming immortality from him.

[Ramashtu.]

Rolling the familiar resonance in his mouth, the voice watched as the headless knight's last moments crumbled away.

Things that have served their purpose are bound to crumble someday.

Whether it was a form of punishment or to leave no evidence behind, the headless knight was shrinking away.

"No!"

Death was returning to the earth.

At the call of the master.

All he left behind in the world was one futile cry.

However, the voice, the sole entity to hear that cry, had no intention of remembering the man's last moments.

The voice began to make one last move, saved from the boy's limitations.

[Return to the depths.]

Kaaaang!

In the final cries of death, the voice struck with its last move, casting down an illegitimate pattern.

From the tip of the unadorned sword, the shimmering breaths of children spread out.

Fading death and blooming life.

The sight the voice saw in the village where the rain had stopped was life and death itself.

In the boundary between the two, it silently swallowed up all the sights.

The fog was dissipating.

※※※※

In the still deserted inn of the village, there was a man moving about alone, bustling in the silence.

He was also the one who had secretly returned to the quietened church and gathered the knights lying there like corpses.

"Captain. How's your body now?"

"...Just about as lousy as ever."

Vlad sighed lightly as he looked at Gott, who was looking at him.

It was frustrating to still find it difficult to even lift a spoon.

"Still, I'm glad you stopped. When you first brought it out, I thought it was some raggedy piece of cloth."

"..."

Vlad was silent as he vigorously stirred the soup he was holding.

It would be better to conserve his strength, as there were things he needed to do after eating this.

"There are other knights I need to take care of. Take a rest."

"Yeah."

With those words, Gott left Vlad's room.

Confirming Gott's departure, Vlad began to converse with the voice out loud.

Perhaps it was too much of a strain, but he couldn't convey his thoughts verbally.

The voice had said that this was how it would have to be for a while.

"Still, I'm glad everyone's alive."

[Yes, that's what matters most.]

All the knights who fought against the Headless Knight suffered major and minor injuries, but were still able to survive.

It was because the barrier set up by Yustia persistently held, protecting the knights, and Vlad's swift actions had lured the headless knight out of the church.

But ultimately, their survival was likely thanks to the voice.

The knights might have thought they were only four that night, but in reality, there was one more hidden member, a secret known only to the boy and the voice.

"Thank you."

[...Okay.]

The boy, though not yet accustomed to openly expressing his feelings, did his best to speak sincerely at that moment. 

The voice that knew the situation said nothing more and just closed its eyes inside the boy.

In the room with only Vlad, the sound of utensils clinking against each other echoed.

※※※※

After finishing his meal, Vlad got up to finish the work he had to do, even though he felt uncomfortable.

"Thank you! Thank you!"

"Sir Knight, thank you so much!"

Parents who had been cradling their children, whose breaths had been thinning that night, didn't hesitate to express their gratitude to Vlad as he shuffled with weary steps. 

Perhaps, to them, he was a subject worthy of more praise than any hero.

Vlad didn't respond directly to their gestures of gratitude, merely rubbing his nose to feel the tickling feeling that was rising for no reason.

And there were still matters to attend to.

"Do not approach further."

"I am from Shoara. The Holy Knight named Yustia know me."

"...Wait."

Vlad was standing in front of the half-destroyed church, waiting for the Holy Knight to inspect him.

Though the Holy Knights called by Yustia arrived a bit late, they were ensuring the completion of the task. Their investigation into the curse spread from the church undoubtedly reassured the villagers.

"Go inside and see."

With the permission of the unnamed knight, Vlad cautiously walked into the interior of the church.

The creaking floorboards and the lingering traces of that day filled the church with an eerie atmosphere, despite it being daytime.

If it weren't for the busy Holy Knights moving around, Vlad might have walked in with his sword drawn.

"Lady Yustia."

"...What brings you here, Vlad?"

Vlad, who was looking for the green-eyed woman while tilting his head, found Yustia holding a Bible-like book under the suspicious symbol.

"I need to go downstairs. There's someone I need to find."

"The women who went missing in Shoara have already been confirmed by Sir Gregory."

The investigative team from Shoara had come here originally to find the missing women. Although things had escalated along the way, Gregory hadn't forgotten his mission.

"I have someone specific I want to find."

"...Come with me."

And so did the boy.

There was someone he needed to find.

Guessing Vlad had his reasons, Yustia closed the book she had been examining for a while.

Opening the burnt door and descending the stairs into the basement, the two passed through, with faint light seeping through the small holes in the wall.

"There might still be remnants of the curse."

Vlad, who went down to the basement with Yustia's consideration, frowned at the bloody smell he felt from there.

"Can I investigate a bit?"

"If you get my blessing when it's done."

Understanding Yustia's words as permission, Vlad cautiously began clearing away the debris scattered around, searching for someone.

"….."

The faces of the suffering women were there.

Carefully uncovering, offering condolences.

As Vlad sifted through the bodies lined up, he let out a small sigh.

Though dirtied, familiar brown hair lay before him.

"I'll go out for a while."

Yustia, realizing that the person Vlad sought was there, stepped aside.

The basement, devoid of anyone else.

In the dim light, Vlad looked down at Anna without a word.

"Life can be truly dirty, right?"

The woman who had been beaten by a stranger and offered her eggs to the boy for protection lay there, her face stained with unshed tears.

Looking at her, the boy's predominant feeling wasn't anger but rather a melancholic sorrow.

If his blade had been sharper, if he had been stronger, perhaps she wouldn't be lying cold on the ground now.

Unable to find solace in his best efforts, Vlad swallowed a bitter lump and spoke.

"...In your next life, be born as something other than a prostitute."

Vlad raised his hand and gently closed the woman's exposed chest, which was wide open like that day. He hoped his touch would offer her some warmth.

In the space vacated by Vlad's departure, only the carefully arranged woman remained.

Unlike the others, she bore no traces of black tears.

In her hand, faintly lit, was a ring with a flower engraved on it.